


Supercomputers, Crossbows, and . . . Pie

by undying_lilies



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, I have been wanting to write this fic for AGES guys, Secret Identities, and Fenton just awkwardly standing there, honestly this is mostly just Drake ranting about how annoying Gizmoduck is, leads up to and then after Let's Get Dangerous, post-Moonvasion, superhero inventions, the difference between these two is astounding sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29935032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undying_lilies/pseuds/undying_lilies
Summary: Gizmoduck really likes pie. Darkwing Duck doesn't.Fenton finds that out the hard way - when Drake Mallard (a.k.a. Darkwing) asks him if he could design some much-needed superhero inventions for him (and later his crime-fighting partner). Turns out Fenton underestimated how much Drake can't STAND Gizmoduck.Or pie, apparently.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera & Drake Mallard, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera & Gosalyn Mallard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Supercomputers, Crossbows, and . . . Pie

“Hey, Fenton!”

When Fenton heard Launchpad’s voice boom through the lab, he poked his head around the stack of papers he currently carried. Right away he noticed the overly-cheerful pilot, since he made regular visits to the lab (always with different reasons), but today he was accompanied by someone new - someone in a purple flannel and someone who Fenton instantly recognized as St. Canard’s resident superhero. 

But, as any other good superhero did, Fenton decided to be respectful and not reveal the other hero’s identity. 

So he set the papers on a nearby table and then joined the two by the elevator. “Salutations!” Fenton greeted, stopping before the duo. “Good morning, Launchpad, and . . . friend of Launchpad.”

“This is Drake,” Launchpad informed, gesturing to his friend. “He needs, uh,  _ certain _ inventions.” He knowingly winked at Drake.

Drake sighed and extended a hand towards Fenton. “Drake Mallard,” the first greeted. “Launchpad here told me that you were a scientist and an inventor.”

“Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera,” Fenton said brightly, shaking the other duck’s hand. “I’m a scientist, but not an official one yet. I’m an intern under Dr. Gearloose, actually.” Seeing Drake’s confusion, he quickly changed the subject. “So what certain inventions do you need?”

Drake hesitated. “Well -” 

“He’s Darkwing Duck,” Launchpad chimed in.

Well, there went trying to be respectful.

Fenton’s eyebrows went up in feigned surprise. “You  _ are?” _

Instead of being frustrated that his identity had been revealed, Drake raised a curious eyebrow. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Yes!” Fenton nodded enthusiastically. “How interesting! I’m interested to hear about all your superhero-ing in St. Canard, I’m sure it’s all very . . . er, interesting.” 

At that, Drake stood a little straighter and puffed his chest out a bit. “It is my noble duty to make sure the city of St. Canard is safe from its crooked criminals and their vile villainy,” he announced, beaming. Then he deflated a bit and glanced at Fenton. “That’s . . . my problem, actually. I don’t have any superhero gadgets or anything to let me know where the crime actually  _ is. _ I was hoping you could . . . help me?” 

Oh,  _ could  _ he. Being Gizmoduck came in handy sometimes. “I think I have a few things up my sleeves.” Then Fenton paused. “Metaphorical sleeves. I don’t actually have anything up my sleeves.”

“Um, right.” Drake cleared his throat, sounding a little impatient. “So superhero gadgets?”

“Superhero gadgets,” Fenton confirmed. 

~

They discussed what kinds of gadgets a superhero would need for quite some time (with Launchpad butting in the conversation at certain points), and they came up with key gizmos for a superhero; a supercomputer to helpfully aid Darkwing Duck in scouring the city for crime, a gas gun and a grappling-hook gun (“just to, um, match the old show,” Drake explained nervously), and even a  _ motorcycle _ that resembled the Ratcatcher from the show.

Drake visited the lab several times over the next few weeks - just to help Fenton on design bits and finalize the gadgets he’d requested. The two struck up a pleasant friendship that often had conversations wavering towards all sorts of things.

Eventually, though, the topic of superheroes came up. “Where’s your lair?” Fenton asked. Then his eyes widened, and he quickly waved his hands. “But if you don’t want to tell me and keep it a secret, that’s fine! I understand trying to keep your identity secret -”

“Nah, it’s in the Audubon Bay Bridge.” Drake shrugged. “Its tower is conveniently abandoned and I don’t know how I’ll hide the Ratcatcher at my house.”

Fenton nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll start designing the blueprints for the supercomputer.” He started reaching for blueprint paper, but then paused and looked up at Drake. “And would you have any pictures of the other gadgets?” 

_ “Would _ I?” Drake snorted in disbelief. “Of course I have pictures. Here, I’ll send them to -”

He paused, his hand hovering over his phone. But his gaze was directed at something behind Fenton, who turned and looked and then nearly had a heart attack -  _ he’d left the Gizmoduck helmet out. _

So much for trying to keep his identity a secret.

“Is that  _ Gizmoduck’s  _ helmet?” Drake asked, sounding like he wasn’t sure of how to react. He walked over to the helmet and inspected it. 

Fenton’s heartbeat pounded so loud that he was sure the other hero could hear it. He swallowed. “Um, well -”

“Don’t tell me you  _ design gadgets for him!” _

“- what?” 

Drake whirled around, an incredulous expression on his face. “You invented Gizmoduck’s  _ suit?” _ he questioned - and did he even sound  _ offended? _ “He - he comes  _ in here _ and you have to make  _ adjustments  _ and - did you come up with that pie thing? Was that you?”

Fenton blinked. Slowly.

“Ye - es?” he managed.

“The pie thing is so stupid!” Drake threw his hands up in the air. “Who decides to shoot  _ pies _ at their enemies?? You should use  _ smoke bombs  _ and stuff to make a temporary distraction.”

“Pie, er, provides a temporary distraction,” Fenton offered weakly, but it was quickly lost to Drake’s continued ranting. 

“Actually, no, I gave you too much credit. I bet Gizmoduck came up with the pie thing. And then he asked you to make it - why would you go  _ through _ with that? Where do the pies even come from? These are the questions, Fenton -”

“I . . . don’t know?” 

“Did you or Gizmoduck come up with the pie thing?” Drake demanded. 

Fenton coughed nervously. “Well, um, I’d say it was a - combined effort - of both of us -”

“So you had a say in the pie thing.”

“- well, yes, but I . . . tried to talk him out of it?”

_ “Ha!” _ Drake declared, slamming a fist on the table. Fenton jumped slightly. “See? I knew you couldn’t have come up with that yourself. You don’t need a bunch of fancy gizmos to make yourself a superhero.”

“. . . what  _ do  _ you need?” Fenton started to fidget with the end of his tie.

“A cape and a hat. Real dramatic ones.  _ Ooh, _ and catchy phrases - one-liners, so you never bore your enemies -”

_ “What _ is going  _ on  _ here?” Gyro demanded, turning around from his spot on the mountain balcony. “I’m trying to work, thank you very _ much -” _

“Sorry, Dr. Gearloose!” Fenton said quickly. He turned back to Drake, who had stopped mid-rant and still had his hand spread out on the table; Fenton grabbed a pencil and started sketching on a sheet of blueprint paper. Whether it was to distract himself from the ranting or get a start on the supercomputer, he himself didn’t know.

“- and  _ that’s _ what you need to be a superhero,” Drake finished, straightening. “You need a dramatic flair, not a  _ robotic  _ flair. I bet Gizmoduck is a cyborg at this point.” He made a face. “Blegh, just saying his name takes effort.”

Fenton tried to focus on drawing a design for a supercomputer. On one hand, he’d successfully kept his identity safe from yet another random civilian, but on the  _ other _ hand . . . Drake was incredibly adamant that he keep ranting about Gizmoduck. And how the pie thing was stupid. And, okay, Fenton silently admitted that pie didn’t really fit the superhero aesthetic, but  _ he _ had liked the idea.

“You  _ eat _ pie. You don’t throw it at people.”

“What about slapstick comedy?” Fenton suggested.

Drake paused. Then he nodded in agreement. “I suppose pie works for that - but  _ superheroes!” _ he exclaimed (and Fenton mentally sighed). “Pie doesn’t go with superheroes! Right, Fenton?”

Caught off guard, Fenton sat up straight and nodded furiously. “It doesn’t!” 

_ “Exactly!” _ Drake cried. “If you ask me, you should’ve tried to talk him out of it.”

“I did!” Fenton said quickly. 

“You did?”

“But, um -”  _ No, that’s not what you were supposed to SAY, Fenton. _ “- he was very insistent. You know Gizmoduck, he really likes pie.”

“I mean, everyone likes pie. To eat. No one likes using it for superhero-ing - you’ve got to pick it up, and then balance it on your hand, and then you need perfect aim to throw it at the villain’s face - like what if you  _ miss _ and what if the news is there to film you doing your daring and noble deed and conquering all the criminals?!”

To be honest, Fenton didn’t even notice the news filming him when he was Gizmoduck about seventy percent of the time. The rare thirty percent of times he  _ did _ notice, he just gave them a friendly wave or a quick message and then zoomed off to his next destination. 

Deciding to pause his rant, Drake glanced at his watch - and his eyes widened. “Yeesh, I’ve gotta be off,” he remarked. “See you later, Fenton - I think you have my phone number, but if you don’t, then Launchpad does.” He waved to Fenton, grabbed his phone, and then hurriedly left the lab.

As soon as the elevator slid shut, Fenton exhaled loudly. (He did not have Drake’s phone number, but he’d just ask Launchpad.)

Gyro’s voice from the mountain balcony made him jump. “Well,” the older scientist remarked, raising an eyebrow, “that was interesting.”

“Heh,” Fenton managed. 

~

He worked on the supercomputer for a solid month and a half, and eventually he named it W.A.N.D.A. A few weeks down the line he found he needed a voice for the computer, so he scrolled through the videos saved on his phone until he found the one he needed.

He chose something similar to Gandra’s voice, but with a different accent and a slightly higher pitch. (He also may have made W.A.N.D.A. slightly snarkier than intended, but what superhero wouldn’t want a snarky sidekick, he reasoned?)

The next time he saw Drake, he was in his Darkwing Duck uniform. Fenton proudly showed off the supercomputer he had  _ invented _ (and Gyro had only helped twice!) and brought it to the Audubon Bay Bridge, where he spent a good chunk of an afternoon setting it up. 

“There you go,” Fenton said brightly a couple hours later, standing back to admire the computer. “Try turning her on.”

Darkwing pressed one of the keys. Immediately the screen lit up and displayed a silhouette of his face.

“Nice touch,” Darkwing said, impressed. Fenton beamed. 

“Try asking it to look for crime,” Fenton urged. “Just to see if it works.”

Darkwing nodded and cleared his throat. “W.A.N.D.A, search the city for crime.”

Immediately the background was replaced with the word “WANDA”. “A simple  _ please _ would be nice,” the computer said scornfully. 

Darkwing blinked. 

“Well, aren’t you snarky,” he muttered under his breath.

“I caught that!”

The superhero turned to Fenton, who immediately gripped his bag tightly and stood up straight. “You made her act like the scientist you work under,” Darkwing said bluntly, frowning. 

The computer clearly took offense at  _ that, _ and she scoffed. “Well,  _ excuse _ you!”

“Oh, um - what superhero doesn’t want a snarky sidekick . . . computer-thing?” Fenton tried.

After seeing Darkwing’s hesitation, Fenton quickly rushed to add, “Gizmoduck doesn’t have one, and . . . I’m sure he doesn’t need one anytime soo -”

That did it - Darkwing immediately lit up. “Gizmoduck doesn’t have one, ey?” he said slyly, his gaze surveying the computer. “Well, looks like the one and only Darkwing Duck can handle such a cynical supercomputer like . . .”

“W.A.N.D.A.,” Fenton supplied.

“Like W.A.N.D.A.,” Darkwing finished. He grinned. “Your noble deeds to aid the superhero of St. Canard will not go unnoticed, I assure you that. Although it’s a shame you’re stuck working for  _ Gizmoduck.” _

“Ahaha, yes, what a shame,” Fenton said weakly. “Um -”

“Definitely. Like the pie thing.  _ That’s _ a shame to the superhero community.”

Not the pie thing  _ again _ . “Well, I need to leave,” Fenton said hurriedly. “Scientist things and . . . all that . . . you know, gotta work on the rest of your gadgets okay bye!”

Before Darkwing could respond, Fenton rushed out of the lair.

~

The motorcycle and the guns were finished faster than the amount of time the supercomputer had taken, and after that Fenton didn’t hear from Drake for some time. Until, months later, Fenton received a text from the other superhero - something about his new crime-fighting partner losing her crossbow and that she needed another one, and would Fenton be willing to help out?

Fenton was, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have turned them down anyway. Drake and his crime-fighting partner (who, surprisingly,  _ wasn’t _ Launchpad this time) visited the lab a couple days after that. 

“This scientist knows you’re Darkwing?” Fenton heard the crime-fighting partner say as he quickly tried to tidy up a nearby table.

“Indeed he does,” Drake replied. “But only him and you and Launchpad know, of course.” Then he paused. “And Dewey.”

“You’re letting too many people know who you are, Drake,” the first voice teased.

Fenton finally cleared off the table (to a respectable-enough degree), and then joined the two by the elevator. Drake’s new crime-fighting partner was a red-haired duckling, dressed in a two-toned jacket and purple hoodie and leggings, and she raised an eyebrow at Fenton when he approached them.

“Good afternoon,” Fenton greeted, waving. 

“Hey,” the duckling said, waving back.

“This is my crime-fighting partner Gosalyn Waddlemeyer,” Drake informed. “She lost her crossbow during one of our patrols, and we can’t have a crime-fighting partner without a weapon.” 

“Got that right,” Gosalyn chimed in.

“A crossbow,” Fenton murmured, rubbing the end of his beak. “I think I can invent something like that. What would you say to a high-tech Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera crossbow?” 

She grinned. “That sounds great.”

They showed up again a few days later, after the design for the crossbow had been finalized and when Fenton was mainly tweaking bits of it. Gosalyn apparently liked talking with Fenton when she learned that he was a  _ scientist _ who probably dealt with interdimensional portals and stuff like that. (Why a kid like her would be interested in interdimensional portals - as dangerous as they could be - he didn’t know at all, but he didn’t press her for a reason.)

Unfortunately, the Gizmoduck Pie thing was brought up again on their second visit to the lab. Gosalyn had decided to lounge on one of the chairs, watching Fenton as he tried building a prototype for her new crossbow. But he’d forgotten to turn the television off - he sometimes liked listening to various shows or the news while he worked, and Gyro didn’t mind, either - and today it was a report about Gizmoduck.

“Ugh,  _ Gizmoduck,” _ Drake complained, making a face. “I  _ still _ can’t believe you wound up working for that guy. What was the story - is he a good friend of Mr. McDuck or something?”

“. . . sure?” Fenton tried, secretly wishing very much that the conversation would go somewhere else. He turned to Gosalyn, ready to start talking about portals again - 

_ “Really?” _ Drake’s eyebrows went up. “His whole family knows him?”

Fenton’s mind went to Huey - but sure, the rest of the Ducks knew  _ of _ him. Huey was the only one who actually seemed interested in science AND superheroes (it wasn’t every day you met someone who liked  _ both) _ . 

“More or less,” Fenton said quickly. “So, um, portals -”

But Drake was not so easily deterred in his quest of complaining about the robotic superhero easily - and, by the look on Gosalyn’s face, this wasn’t anything new she’d had to endure. So Fenton mentally sighed and beared through the conversation.

Gosalyn jumped in a couple times with points that led Drake off into an entirely different part of the rant. “And the pies, right?” she once said, and neither of St. Canard's crime-fighting team saw Fenton’s forehead noticeably  _ thunk _ onto the table. 

“And the  _ pies!” _ Drake threw his hands in the air. “Don’t get me started on those stupid pies. Pies are not a  _ weapon, _ they are a  _ dessert,  _ they are to  _ EAT _ and -”

“They’re to eat!” Fenton echoed, sitting up straight.

“Exactly.  _ Thank you.” _

The TV started showing a recording of Gizmoduck speaking into a microphone a news reporter had offered him and said something about Duckburg.  _ “Just doing my noble duty to the city of Duckburg,” _ his prerecorded voice stated. 

Shoot shoot shoot. Fenton fumbled around with the remote before pressing a button and shutting the TV off.

He was met with a pair of confused faces. “Um - was getting kinda tired of hearing him,” Fenton lied, nervously smiling. 

But - to his immense surprise - the spell over Drake was broken, and he blinked and then joined Fenton and Gos over by the table.

“Probably smart,” Drake said. He glanced down at the half-finished prototype of the crossbow. “Thanks for doing this by the way, Fenton - crime-fighting is getting a little hard without Gos having a crossbow.”

Fenton said his next sentence without thinking. “Just doing my noble duty to the superheroes of St. Canard.”

Immediately Gosalyn’s eyes went wide. Fenton could practically see the gears turning in her head, and his heart dropped to the center of the earth - he’d . . . just repeated Gizmoduck’s speech, hadn’t he?

She opened her mouth. “You -”

But she cut off, because Fenton was shaking his head wildly and gesturing for her to  _ stop stop stop - _

As if on cue, Drake’s phone started ringing. “It’s LP,” the superhero said, and he grabbed his phone. “I’ll be right back.”

He headed off to a secluded corner of the lab, and as soon as he had gone Gosalyn turned to Fenton with still-wide eyes.

“Oh my gosh,” she breathed. Then she sniggered. “Oh  _ no. _ I can’t believe it. You’re -”

“Fine, yes, I’m Gizmoduck,” Fenton said miserably, slumping into his seat.

Gosalyn burst out laughing. “Oh MAN!” she exclaimed, slamming a hand onto the table. “Wait ‘til Drake finds that out! His superhero rival invented his superhero gadgets - you built W.A.N.D.A., didn’t you?”

Fenton nodded. 

“And - and you’re even making my crossbow. Gosh, Drake is an  _ idiot.” _

“You’re not telling him, are you?” Fenton ventured, eyeing the duckling worriedly.

“Telling him?” Gosalyn snorted. “Absolutely not. This is  _ hilarious _ and I wanna see his face when he figures it out himself.”

Fenton slowly exhaled in relief. At least his identity was kept safe from  _ one _ person -

“I gotta say, though,” she interrupted thoughtfully, “what in the world gave him the impression you don’t like Gizmoduck?”

“I don’t know.” Fenton put his head in his hands. “He somehow thinks I can’t stand him. Please don’t get him started on the pie thing again, Gosalyn -”

“No promises,” Gosalyn said slyly. 

~

She did not keep her promise in the slightest.

When Fenton finally presented Gosalyn with her new and shiny high-tech Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera crossbow, she gave him an excited “thanks, Fenton!” and almost even tried it out inside the lab (but Drake glared at her sternly before she could break anything, so she reluctantly lowered her arms). Fenton beamed in response and told her that he hoped it would be good enough to fight the crime of St. Canard with.

“Oh yeah, look at this!” Gosalyn inspected the sleek figure of the crossbow. “It’s light and easy to carry, and I’m sure using this thing will be a piece of cake.”

“Thanks so much,” Drake said brightly. “You helped us out a ton.”

“Yeah, we gotta be the ones to get to the crime first.” Gosalyn shot Fenton a scheming wink. His heart sank once he realized what she was doing. “Pie isn’t gonna stop those villains.”

“It will  _ not, _ no matter how much that resentful robotic rogue says it does,” Drake muttered. “Smoke bombs are useful.  _ Pies _ are  _ not -” _

Fenton shot Gosalyn a glare. Gos shrugged good-naturedly and patted Drake’s arm. “Shame to stop your pie rant,” she said, sounding like it wasn’t a shame at all, “but we’ve gotta scoot. I bet LP’s waiting outside, right?”

Somehow she managed to stop Drake’s rant and got out of the lab, and when the elevator doors slid shut, Fenton collapsed into one of the desk chairs in relief.

Gyro walked out of the mountain balcony with an armful of paperwork, giving his intern a skeptical look. Fenton didn’t have the energy to say anything back, so he just looked at the other scientist in response.

“You are a mess,” Gyro remarked, and he joined Fenton by that particular desk and dumped the paperwork on it. “How’d you even get into all that?”

Fenton sunk deeper into his seat. It was true, he admitted, he was somehow in a sticky, muddled mess. But at least there was  _ one _ person who didn’t know he was Gizmoduck, right?

. . . even if said person thought that Fenton himself  _ didn’t  _ like Gizmoduck?

“Gizmoduck really likes pie,” Fenton finally came up with, “and Darkwing Duck doesn’t.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Look y'all, I know I have tons of fics I could be working on but please believe me when I say that I've been wanting to write something like this for AGES. Ever since Let's Get Dangerous. Because the idea of Drake ranting about how annoying Gizmoduck is to FENTON is the most hiliarious thing to me. (The fact that the finale is creeping up on us just pushed me to actually write it and throw it out on the internet sooner, because I'm low-key holding out for some Fenton-Trying-To-Keep-His-Identity-A-Secret-From-Drake shenanigans in there)


End file.
